Promises
by kwater
Summary: Dean and Sam finally learn what Christmas truly means.  This is a Christmas story involving the character Catherin Chase from Healing, The Hunted, The First and The Guardian
1. Chapter 1

"Dean's not gonna like it, Catherine," Sam said, as he glanced at his brother asleep in the back seat.

Catherine's hand drifted up to press against her forehead. She felt chilled again; the fever had been coming and going for the last day. Her back was aching and her chest was so congested that she was taking half breaths. Catherine shot a glance at the rearview and noted that Dean was still sound asleep.

Catherine ignored her issues and put her foot to the pedal, picking up speed. She had told Bobby they'd make it and she'd be damned if Dean's stubbornness would ruin it. "Listen, Sam, I promised. I've never let Bobby spend Christmas alone and I'm not about to start." If possible Catherine seemed to urge the Impala to an even greater speed.

"Yeah, but you're still not well, that cold you've been fighting keeps getting worse," Sam said, looking at her flushed cheeks. "Christmas is in one day, there's no way we're going to make it. Jesus, Catherine, slow down. You crash her and you can forget ever celebrating Christmas again." Sam winced, as he heard himself refer to the car in the feminine.

Catherine's eyes never left the road; the Impala surged thru the night eating up the miles. She would make it, she never broke a promise. This time Catherine wasn't willing to back down. The Winchester brothers were in for a fight if they expected her to disappoint Bobby.

888

Bobby moved to the living room windows once again, twitching aside the blinds to reveal the empty driveway. Every year it was the same thing, he told himself that she may not make it. He prepared himself for it. And yet every year since she was nineteen she had made it. Sometimes the hand on the clock had declared only an hour left till the official day was over but still she made it.

He turned from the window and once again went through the list that she had sent him the other week. He needed to be sure everything was ready, she was counting on him.

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Catherine had noticed the flurries in the sky about an hour ago, but hadn't let herself think about it. Then the flurries had become snow, again she had ignored it and kept the car moving. Now however, she could no longer ignore the fact that the storm had become a squall. She was barely moving anymore, steadily losing the lead that she had gained with her earlier breakneck speed.

She looked over at Sam; he was hunched against the door sound asleep. Dean was curled up in the back seat, still trying to catch up on the sleep that he had missed over the last couple of days.

Catherine had to admit, that as good as she was, no one could compare to Dean Winchester when it came to just moving forward. No matter what was put in his way, he just kept going. He was a true warrior when it came to those that needed his protection.

Catherine grimaced as she squinted, her already exhausted eyes, trying to see through the snow that blew from all sides. Sam was right Dean was going to be royally pissed. He had only laid down and fallen asleep once she had sworn several times that she would only drive till she found a motel and then wake him.

He was suspicious about her, cold. He knew she was feeling worse than she let on and he had declared that she was too sick to make it all the way home to Bobby's. Catherine snorted, who the hell was he to issue orders. Catherine had a feeling that lately she had followed Dean's orders a little too well; he apparently felt that she was falling in line with his image of a good soldier.

Well, piss on that, Dean was in for a big surprise. She hadn't gone toe to toe with one of the Winchester boys in a while. It was about time to remind them, just who was meaner. Catherine had no doubt in her heart who would win.

"What the Hell, Catherine?" Dean shouted, as he suddenly sat up in the back seat and got a good look at all the snow.

Catherine about jumped out of her skin. The Impala actually spun slightly and Catherine quickly adjusted the wheel bringing the car back under control. "God Damn, Dean, are you trying to give me a heart attack, and watch the volume Sam's sleeping," Catherine snapped.

"Pull over this instance, of all the harebrained ideas you've gotten stuck in your head over the past couple of months this takes the cake. You swore to me, hell, you swore on Sam, that you would just drive to the nearest hotel," Dean said, leaning forward over the front seat, elbowing Sam in his agitation.

"I won't," Catherine said, as she continued her slow crawl thru the snow. "You don't understand, Dean. I have to be there. I will."

Dean suddenly leaned in closer taking one look at her glazed eyes. He quickly reached up and felt her forehead; it was hot to the touch, not just warm, but hot. "Catherine, you swore to me, on Sammy's life that you would find a hotel. On Sammy, Catherine. Now pull over." Dean's anger was a palpable thing it was rolling off of him in waves.

Catherine slammed on the brakes, the car sliding sideways in the snow. She threw the car in park, opened the driverside door and got out of the car. She was walking off into the snow, before either Dean or Sam, who had just had his head banged against the window, could realize it.

"What the hell, Dean, Jesus man, she's sick, what did you do to her," Sam snapped, quickly following Catherine out the car door.

"Sam, wait," Dean called.

Sam hesitated for a moment turning reluctantly from Catherine's retreating back. "She's being ridiculess, Sam, she lied and manipulated me, now here we are stuck in the middle of nowhere and it's her fault. Just get in the car; she'll back down trust me."

"Dean, who are you talking about. You know perfectly well that woman will kill herself before she backs down. Why can't you just cut the crap and help her get to Bobby's, she feels she needs to be there, that should be enough for you." Sam no longer able to ignore Catherine took off after her.

888

As Catherine walked she mumbled to herself, this was a habit she'd had since she was a kid. She was a ranter by nature, quick to anger, quick to vent, quick to cool. This time though, this time she just didn't think she would be able to shuck off her anger with a good yelling match, or even in some physical way. Usually, when her mood was this black, she let out the anger and started all over again, calmer, in sync once again.

Not this time though. Over the last months she had sacrificed him again, and again. Allowed, him to endanger himself in order to keep Sam safe, at least as safe as possible in this job. She had stood back, and made decisions, that went against every grain in her body. Put all her energy into Sam, knowing that that was what Dean needed from her.

She had gone far and beyond what could be expected of a girl in love. And she had done it gladly, knowing that without Sam, Dean, the Dean she loved would not exist. But now here she was finally asking for something for herself. Something she needed and he was refusing. Catherine felt her world shake, she knew his priorities, she understood them, but this was different, this was within his reach and he had refused her. Well, he would learn God hath no fury...

888

Dean was becoming worried, he had gotten back into the car expecting Catherine to come back, head hanging ready to apologize. Over the last couple of months he had become used to her obeying his orders without hesitation. He knew what she needed, why she didn't get it, he didn't understand. He knew that she was too sick, that their wasn't enough time to make it to Bobby's and really why should it matter to her. She wasn't alone, Christmas would still happen, why wasn't he enough? Why did she need more?

Christmas meant close to nothing to Dean, not anymore. As a kid he had done everything he could to try to make the day special for Sam. But as Sam had grown it had just become too much to hold together. So little by little, year by year he had let it go. Sam hadn't complained and lately they had just been happy to be together on Christmas.

Dean saw Sammy emerge from the snow in front of him, and he felt a surge of relief. Sam wouldn't leave Catherine out in the snow. She must be right behind him. Dean leaned toward the passenger side door as it swung open.

Sam slid into the Impala and immediately upped the heater holding his hands against the vents. He took a deep breathe and looked at Dean. "I can't find her. I went up quite a ways and I can't find her. I was following her footprints and they just ended, Dean." Sam leaned over the seat and rooted around on the floor of the Impala picking up a flashlight, gloves and his coat.

Dean grabbed Sam's arm and twisted him around. "What do you mean they just end? She's got to be there."

Sam shrugged out of Dean's grip and allowed the anger he was feeling toward Dean to escape. "Can you feel her Dean? I can't not at all." At the site of Dean's stricken eyes, Sam realized that Dean wans't able feel Catherine either.

Dean realized that Sam was right. What they had lovingly called her lojack was gone. He couldn't feel her pull. Granted for the last week her power had been shaky at best. But she had still been there, always in the back of his mind, comforting and constant.

Sam snorted in frustration. "I've got to find her, she's really sick and it's freezing out. There's a turn off just ahead with a sign for an inn. Just get the Impala there and I'll meet you at the hotel when I find her."

At this point Sam's eyes grew even angrier. "She hasn't asked you for anything since the day you two met. She's given everything she is to you and you've done nothing in kind. She's had nothing her whole life. What she has Bobby gave to her. It would have taken nothing on your part to help her get to him. Now instead she's not only going to miss being with him, she'll be lucky she doesn't spend Christmas in the hospital." At this Sam slammed out of the car and started down the road, flashlight bobbing and weaving as he tried to follow the hunter's footprints.


	2. Chapter 2

Catherine came to suddenly, she quickly took in the fact that she was lying on something soft. She looked up at the unfamiliar ceiling and tried to remember what had happened. She had argued with Dean and in a fit of anger had left the Impala. She remembered that much, what she didn't remember was where she was or how she had gotten here.

As her eyes moved around the room, she quickly gathered that she was in some type of bedroom. She was curled up on her side, facing a fire that was blazing in the hearth. She started to send out a feeler for Dean, before she remembered that her power wasn't working well lately. The cold that she had been fighting for the last week had given her such a bad headache that she wasn't able to locate Dean, she quickly tried to find Sam and ended up with an even worse headache.

Catherine knew that she couldn't stay here. She wasn't safe; she had no idea how she had gotten here, or even where here was. However, if anything was a constant in her life it was that nothing good ever happened. Not unless she made it happen, she had to move, she had to get to Bobby, she'd promised.

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Dean was torn, part of him wanted to be with Sam searching the roadway for Catherine. The other part though knew that he needed to get the Impala off the roadway, before the snow grew deep.

He quickly put the car in drive and swung out onto the highway. He passed by Sam and quickly found the road with the sign, reading "Wayfarers Inn". He made the right and saw the lot to his right. The Inn was an old Victorian house. The lot was empty but there was light shining thru the windows. Dean parked, pulled his coat out of the trunk along with a pair of gloves and his flashlight. He started jogging back to the highway, his mind going over and over again the fact that Catherine had been wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and one of Dean's old button down shirts. He knew she would quickly freeze to death in this cold.

As he moved along the highway, he kept his head down on the lookout for any tracks or even tire marks that could give an indication of where Catherine had disappeared to. He saw Sam up ahead flashlight reflecting the snow and moved towards him.

"What's up, Sammy, did you find anything?" Dean asked, panic creeping into his voice. He shone his light to join in with Sam's and noted what seemed to be a set of footprints. Dean quickly recognized the tread left by Catherine's boots. The footprints just stopped as if she was lifted off her feet.

Sammy took the light and looked over the embankment carefully, trying not to disturb any prints that might be there. "Dean, it's like she just disappeared. I wasn't able to find anything, no tire prints, no other shoe prints, hell not even animal prints."

As Dean studied the area he realized that he could see the back of the Inn clear as day from here and it wasn't too far. "Let's go check out the Inn, maybe she made it there. If not..." Dean's voice suddenly trailed off.

Sam saw the pain on Dean's face and put a hand on his shoulder. Sam nodded and the two men moved off, jogging down the embankment and across the open field. They moved in unison both scanning the field for some sign that Catherine had passed this way.

888

Catherine rose from the bed, a little shakily. Her fever seemed worse and the chills that were starting to wrack her body were weakening her. She looked down to notice that she wore only a thick terry cloth robe, slightly too big for her bearing the ornate initials WFI. She looked around the room but found no sign of the clothes she had been wearing. She felt herself start to panic when she realized that she didn't have the silver blade that she always kept on herself. She in fact had nothing, not even a bit of holy water or salt. She was completely unprotected.

She moved toward the door noticing that the room was in good shape. Everything was clean and neat; she relaxed slightly and thought, that at least had to be in her favor. Axe wielding maniacs were rarely good housekeepers. Come to think of it dressing their victims in monogrammed bathrobes also seemed a bit unusual. Maybe this time everything would work out, Catherine snorted at this thought and prepared herself for the worse.

888

As Sam and Dean approached the building, their strides quickly eating up the distance, they realized just how beautiful the building was. They moved around the front entrance, both noticing the vibrant blue paint on the door and a shining brass knocker. Dean reached out and knocked on the big wooden door

The door opened slowly and the brothers saw a tiny, wrinkled man in front of them. "Hello, young fellows," he said, opening the door fully. "Well, come on in, you're only going to get colder standing out there." The man gestured for the brothers to enter.

As Dean entered the house he realized just how beautiful it was. The entry gave off a feeling of warmth and contentment. The man in front of him was old, very old. He wasn't quite as short as Dean had thought, it was simply that he was so hunched over that he had lost almost half of his height. Dean followed the man into a large spacious room with a fire blazing in the corner. "Excuse me, we're actually, looking for someone. A woman, she has long brown hair, blue eyes and was wearing jeans and a blue button down shirt," Dean asked, the man as following him towards the fire.

The man turned slowly. "Is this your girlfriend, Son?" He gestured at Dean and Sam to stand by the fire.

Dean held his hands out towards the warmth of the fire stalling for time. He knew what he felt for Catherine, but he still felt stupid calling her something as general as a girlfriend. And yet what else could he call her. "Um, yeah, we were up on the highway and now I can't find her," Dean said, looking into the eyes of the older man.

The man started pulling Sam's jacket from his shoulders all the while pushing the younger man towards an upholstered red chair. "You fellows don't have to worry, I'm sure your friend is fine. Why I bet Gracie has her. She'll be just fine."

As Sam sat in the chair a wave of relief rolling over him, he looked to where Dean was wrestling with the man, trying to keep his jacket on without actually hurting the persistent old man. "Do you know where she is? Can you take us to her? She's not feeling well and we need to see her," Dean said, as he finally relinquished his coat.

"First things First, Young Man, how about you and your young friend here make yourselves comfortable. I'll see about bringing the two of you some food and drinks, and then we'll get you a room." He started for the door, stopping at the last moment. "Oh, and forgive me for not introducing myself, Gracie's always saying that I can't keep a thought in my head." The little man rambled on "my name is George. Gracie and I have owned the Wayfarer for the past forty-two years. Welcome and merry Christmas Eve." With that George disappeared walking out of the door they had entered.

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Catherine moved through the house carefully and quietly, she relaxed more and more as she moved from room to room. The house was beautiful and well appointed. Everything was lovingly maintained and Catherine quickly realized that she was in some type of Inn. It was the only thing that made sense. She remembered seeing the sign for an Inn and thinking how much she wanted to be able to go to the Inn and find peace.

She finally decided that there was nothing to be learned on the second floor and made her way to the stairs. As she descended she thought for a moment that she heard male voices floating up the stairs. In fact for a moment, she thought she heard Dean's voice. She paused listening hard but heard nothing again. As she neared the end of the stairs and moved into the living room she noticed a large stone fireplace in the corner. She suddenly felt herself drawn toward the fire that was burning in the hearth. Her headache eased up a bit and she suddenly felt safer, more sure of herself. She found herself feeling like she did when Dean was around.

Catherine shook off the feeling and moved across the living room noting how beautiful it was. As she left the room behind her moving toward what looked like the kitchen she suddenly felt inexplicably sad. As if she had left something important behind.

She was moving into the kitchen when she saw a tiny bird of a woman standing at the stove placing a teakettle on one of the burners. She was small and delicate. She had thick glasses on and wore her hair in a set of tiny curls; she was wearing a simple housedress and slippers on her feet.

"Well, Dear, hello. It's good to see you back on your feet. You gave those young men of yours quite a scare," The tiny woman said, in a bird like voice.

Catherine moved across the kitchen in a hurry, and asked, "Dean and Sam, they're here? Where are they?"

The woman smiled, and said, "My name is Grace, darling. And this is my Inn, the Wayfarer. My husband, George and I have run it for the past forty-two years. Your young men are fine, why they're with George right now."

Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. At least something was finally going right. She suddenly put her hand to her head and swayed. "My name's Catherine, It's a pleasure to meet you."

Grace moved around the counter toward Catherine. "Now dear you're going to pass out if you keep this up. You need rest. You head on back up toward you're room and lay down. I'll make tea and bring it up to you. You really don't look well."

Catherine felt lightheaded again. She just couldn't seem to focus her thoughts past the pounding in her head. She nodded, and said, "Thanks, I don't need tea, but I will go up to my room. If you don't mind would you let the boys know where I am?"

Grace nodded and returned to making tea. As Catherine headed back to her room she again was pulled to the fireplace in the corner of the room. As she stood there she actually thought she felt Dean, there in the back of her head. The feeling quickly passed though and Catherine's headache became even worse.

She moved slowly toward the stairs and returned to her room, as she lay in bed waiting for Dean, and her last thought as she drifted away was how much she missed his warmth by her side.


	3. Chapter 3

"Dude," Dean said, turning to Sam. "What the frick? Where the hell is Catherine, are you getting anything?" For once Dean was hoping that Sam's Jedi powers would be of some help.

Sam walked over toward Dean and stood with him shoulder to shoulder. He knew Dean didn't like direct contact, but Sam felt the need to offer some kind of comfort. And this was as close to comforting as Dean allowed. "I'm not getting anything man. But I don't think there's anything evil going on either. Just some serious weirdness. You want to wait here for George or just go and find Catherine on our own?"

Dean just raised an eyebrow at Sam and started moving. Dean paused, head cocked to the side he seemed to be listening to a sound only he could hear. Sam could see him whispering to himself, a sure sign that he was concentrating. Dean seemed to shake his head and looked into Sam's eyes. "She was just there a second ago, Sammy, and then she was just gone." Dean's clear green eyes reflected the pain he was feeling. "She's always been there Sam, during fights, sleep, hell when I shower I can feel her. Now she's just gone."

Dean looked up at Sam hoping for some comfort, Sam couldn't offer any, the bond that Catherine and Dean shared was unique to them, although Catherine had turned her lojacking abilities on Sam a couple of times, but he had never felt, anything.

He had supposed it was because of his abilities, but now, he wondered if maybe she just hadn't wanted Sam to feel her. He looked at Dean and offered the only thing he could. "Well, not to worry, Dean, there's no way she's dead. Remember the last time she was knocked out cold. Do you remember what she said?"

Dean suddenly grinned, eyes twinkling. "Yeah," he said, remembering the fierceness in her tone. She had gotten between a satanic cultist and Sammy, she had stood her ground and had managed to throw a knife dead center in his chest just before the big man had tossed her into a wall. She had been knocked to hell and back, had scared Sam to death with her stillness as she laid there. Dean had also, been worried, but he knew that she wasn't dead, after all dead girls don't hum the lyrics to Soul City.

She had laid there as Sam tried to get a response out of her. After what seemed forever she let out a gasp and had started breathing more evenly. Sam had sat back on his heels, wiped a hand across his forehead and had cursed foully. Dean had found himself taken aback. Dean was the one with the four letter vocabulary, to be honest Catherine cursed more than Sam did.

She had finally opened her one remaining good eye, and said, "Impressive, Sam, I didn't think you knew any words that dirty." Sam and Dean had leaned over her again. Each holding a hand as they sat in that dark, dank room. Catherine's eyes hadn't opened again, but she had squeezed each of their hands, and said, "You guys don't have to worry about me dying. I'm not good enough for heaven and hell would only spit me back out again." At this she gave a sly smile. 'Yeah, I'll always be there to save your asses."

Sam had sat back and laughed, but Dean had frowned suddenly, and said, "Why the hell do you think you're not good enough for heaven." Dean actually looked around as if daring anyone to suggest that Catherine was not up to standards for the pearly gates.

Catherine grinned wickedly, and said, "I keep having the dirtiest thoughts about this guy. Yup, and since God knows all, I'm definintly in trouble."

Dean laughed at the memory that Sam had brought up. He remembered that he had badgered her day and night for two weeks before she would admit her fantasy. It had actually brought a blush to Dean's face, not that he hadn't enjoyed making it come true.

"Alright, Sam, let's do this, we might as well start down here and work our way up. We stay to together and stay alert. I don't think that old George will go all Psycho on us but, hey we've had stranger things happen." Dean quickly moved toward a hall leading to the left, Sam followed on his heels.

The boys moved thru the large house checking every corner. They had just returned from the basement and where preparing to head upstairs when George suddenly appeared with a tray of food and a couple of beers. Sam just shook his head; he and Dean had been all through the ground floor of this house and hadn't seen a hide nor hair of George. And as for food, the spread that George presented him had definitely not come from the kitchen that Sam and Dean had seen.

George laid down the tray and began spreading things out, gesturing for the guys to join him. "Come on, Sit down, Gracie put this tray up and it looks delicious. The woman always was a wonderful cook," George stated, as he started loading up plates for Dean and Sam.

Sam looked at Dean and raised a brow. Dean nodded and the men sat down beside the fire. Dean didn't eat his food; he just waited until George was comfortable and starting to eat. "Where Is My Girl, Old Man?" Dean asked, menace in his eyes and a bite in his voice.

George looked up at Dean with startled eyes. "Why I told you she's with my Grace. I'm sure they'll be down in..." George looked down at his watch, and said, "Oh, about 15 minutes. Now that gives us just enough time to talk. Why don't you sit back and explain how you managed to loose such a wonderful girl in the first place."

Dean's eyebrows just about lifted off his forehead, as the surprise faded though a hooded look came into his eyes. "Listen, I don't need advice, I need Catherine," Dean said, quickly taking a swig of the beer in front of him.

George smiled softly, and said, "Oh, got it all under control, huh. If that was true then why was that poor girl so intent on walking all the way home in the snow?"

Dean shot the old man a look guaranteed to shut up anyone. Hell, it was the only thing that had ever worked on Sammy and no one asked as many questions as Sam.

George just chuckled, as said, "Let's see, let's see. She needed to do something and you thought it wasn't important enough to waste your time on right. That's it," George said, as he watched Dean's jaw drop in surprise. "That's it. Well let me tell you, Sonny, I've been married forty-two years and the thing that I have learned about woman is that you always give. It's the only way to survive. See woman, really do know best. And the sooner you learn that the sooner you spare yourself heartache." At this George's face crumbled, a single tear falling from his eye.

"I'll tell you a story; see I was a stubborn son of a bitch in my day. I know I may not look it now, but I was tough as nails, quite the ladies man also," George said. with a sparkle in his eye. "Then one day, the tiniest little bit of a woman that I had ever seen walked by me and that was it. I was a goner. I pursued her with a single purpose in mind. To marry her and keep her with me forever. I spent all summer with her, I was twenty-two and she was just eighteen. We loved a lifetime in that summer. However, summer turned into the fall and then into winter, Pearl Harbor happened." George paused and took a small sip of his own beer.

"I went and signed up the next day, had to you know. As I walked home though I knew that Grace might not understand. That I might loose her, quite a temper that young lady had. She could curse a blue streak and drink me under the table when she set her mind to it," George said, with a smile toward Dean "Not unlike that young lady of yours I'd wager.

"Well, I took her for a walk that night and explained to her what I had to do. She was so still for a moment that I felt sure that I had lost her. That she would leave me, she wanted to get married you see, and suddenly I was afraid that she wasn't willing to wait." George's smile lit up his face.

"Then she simply pressed herself up against me and told me that she understood. That she would wait for me for as long as needed, in fact forever if it came down to it. Then she told me that she had gone down to the Red Cross and had volunteered. She knew that we would be split up but at least she would feel like she was doing her part." George wiped another tear from his chin.

"We both made it thru the war. We were reunited three years later on Christmas Day. I had journeyed over 2,000 miles to reach her, I had promised see and I couldn't just break a promise like that. We married on New Year's Day and were never parted again."

At this George looked at his watch again. He smiled softly, and said, "Two more minutes. Grace and I promised on our first Christmas that no matter what happened we would always be together on Christmas. We've kept that promise to each other all these years. Sometimes holding onto a promise is all we have." At this George paused and then continued with difficulty.

"Gracie, passed away five years ago, cancer. I was beyond condolences, my whole life fell apart. And then on the first Christmas after she died, she came to me. She had fulfilled her promise to never be apart. She comes back every Christmas and we get twenty-four perfect hours, until she has to leave. Until I join her and we can be together forever." George paused again and looked at his watch with a small smile.

Sam and Dean were startled by this final statement, but not nearly as startled by the sound of soft footsteps on the stairs. As they turned they saw a tiny little gray haired woman come down the stairs. As she reached the bottom she simply held out her hand to George.

He was beside her in moments. He took her in his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He whispered something in her ear and she actually blushed.

She then turned to Sam and Dean, and said, "Dean, you stubborn ass. You are going to have to learn to bend or else she is going to break you. She's upstairs, finally sleeping and if you have any sense in that thick noggin of yours you'll damn well get yourself up to her apologize and then make sure she gets where she needs to get come morning."

With that she took George's hand and moved thru the room toward the kitchen. George followed with a last wink thrown over his shoulder at Dean and Sam.

Dean suddenly, put a hand to his head. "I can feel her, Sam, she's back, oh thank god," Dean said, as he hurried up the stairs two at a time. Sam simply sat back down at the table, made himself a sandwich and waited. There would be plenty of driving to be done if they expected to get to Bobby's on time.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean never hesitated; he moved down the hallway and stopped at the second door on the right. He suddenly braced himself and opened the door. She laid facing away from him, on her side. As he moved towards her he noticed that she wore a bathrobe and hadn't gotten under the covers.

He walked around the side of the bed and sat gingerly on the edge. Her eyes were closed and looked bruised. She just looked tired, he had noticed it when this day had started. It was one of the reasons he hadn't wanted her in the Impala wearing herself out even more. He had wanted her safe and sound in a room, lying in bed, preferably with a hospital close by. She just wasn't well, and he hated to see her so lifeless.

But no, no she had to go and fight him, push him and push him until he had lost his temper and shut down on her. He had given her an order, something that he tried not to do, unless they were working a job.

And boy, what a mistake, she had simply ignored it and done what she wanted to anyway. He had to admire her guts though, she had done what she needed to do and damn the consequences. He had to admire her, he worked the same way.

He reached out and carefully, pushed her hair out of her eyes. He noticed the bruise that still lingered on her forehead and he gently leaned down and kissed the spot. She stirred briefly and smiled up at him. "Dean, you're back," she said, closing her eyes again.

"Yeah, Katie girl, I'm back" He gently eased onto the bed behind her and gathered her into his arms. "I'm sorry, honey. I should have taken you more seriously when you said you wanted to get to Bobby's." Dean wrapped his body around her noticing that she was shaking slightly.

As Dean held her Catherine's shivering finally slowed and then stopped. She was drowsy with warmth and could no longer remember why she had been so angry with Dean.

And then it suddenly hit her. She quickly jerked out of his arms and stood swaying next to the bed. "Dammit, Dean, we have to go. I have to make it back."

She stood there her robe gaping, her rapid breathing causing her robe to move enticingly and Dean couldn't help but give her a lazy grin.

Suddenly her eyes narrowed and she reached out, grabbing the edge of the comforter on the bed she suddenly yanked upwards with all her might.

Dean tumbled onto the floor knocking his head on the night stand as he fell. He sat up with a glare and prepared himself for the upcoming argument. As he stood up and moved towards her intending to take her down a peg, she came forward and met him in the middle of the room. Dean momentarily lost the thread of his anger as he looked down at her heaving chest again.

Catherine looked down following his sudden slack jawed gaze and walloped him up the back side of the head. "How dare you, waltz in here with that smug smile and expect me to just melt into your arms. Just forget about Bobby and Christmas all because you flash those green eyes at me. I'm telling you now fella, you got the wrong girl, if you expect me to stop trying to make it to Bobby's." With that Catherine swung around and began tearing apart the room looking for her clothes.

Dean saw Catherine start to sway again and quickly put his arms around her. "Alright, Alright I admit defeat. I'll get you to Bobby's. Just settle down before you fall down." Dean eased her back down on the bed.

She turned her face to Dean's, and asked suspiciously, "Is this some kind of trick?" She narrowed her eyes and looked at him intently.

Dean smiled softly and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "No, I just can't fight you anymore. If it means that much to you then I'll do it. Simple as that."

Dean looked down at the floor between them, and said, "I'm sorry I didn't take you seriously before Catherine. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just didn't realize how important it was that you spend Christmas with Bobby, I mean I figured that having Sam and me would be enough."

Catherine's heart just melted. She grabbed Dean's hands and brought him down on the bed next to her. Then she leaned back and drew Dean with her. She held his hands and thought about what she wanted to say. "Dean, my first Christmas was at the ripe old age of nineteen. As a kid I wasn't allowed to even go to the Christmas parties at school. We were kept on our knees for the entire day praying for our sins. My childhood, was, well you know horrible comes to mind. When I was nineteen I spent my first Christmas with Bobby. I was in bad shape, angry defiant, just waiting for Bobby to let me down like everyone else had. Instead I woke up Christmas morning and" here Catherine paused and wiped away a tear on her cheek.

"That grizzled old man had set up the most beautiful Christmas you can imagine, presents, decorations, food it was incredible. It was months later that I learned that Bobby hadn't celebrated Christmas in twenty years. Not since the woman that he loved was killed on Christmas Eve by a werewolf. He did that for me, he had kept on doing it every year since. I have to be there." Catherine's eyes pleaded with Dean. "Please, Dean."

Dean nodded. "We'll get there, you stay here and rest, I'll get Sam and we'll get ready to roll. Just stay here, and, Catherine, could you hum? I mean it's just that you were gone for a while" Dean looked her directly in the eye, and said, "I didn't like it."

Catherine felt her breath hitch in her chest and stilled for a moment. The temptation to simply stay here with him so great she actually closed her eyes against it. She forced a smile, and asked, "Any requests?"


	5. Chapter 5

Dean set about getting ready as if he had a job to do. He quickly found Sam by the fire dozing lightly he shook him gently on the shoulder. "Hey, pal you awake, I need your help."

Sam was up and on his feet in a moment. "Where's Catherine you found her right?" Sam was moving toward the stairs intending to find her himself.

"Whoa, Whoa there, Big Guy. Yeah I found her and she's fine. She's sick as a dog though, we need to get her bundled up and into the Impala. I promised her I'd take her home. Do you know where the lovebirds are, I could use a little Christmas magic," Dean said, as he moved to pick up his coat and put it on.

Suddenly, George and Gracie emerged from another room. "Dean, you leave it up to us, we'll get you ready and rolling in a few minutes," Gracie said, as she headed up the stairs.

George suddenly turned to the men, and asked, "How far you going, I've got a set of snow chains in the garage. Think that'll help."

Dean nodded, and said, "Yeah that just might do the trick. Also, do you have anything heavy, like maybe cinder blocks?"

"Sure do," George replied, leading Dean out towards the garage.

"Sammy, Katie's really sick; we're going to need Tylenol at least for her fever, maybe some cough syrup? It won't fix what's wrong but at least it might ease her symptoms so she can sleep," Dean called, over his shoulder to Sam.

"Listen, Sam; go upstairs to my medicine cabinet. I got some amoxicillin from the doctor last month for a cold. I never even bothered to start it, the bottle should be there. Just follow the script and take whatever else you need." George followed Dean outside.

Sam headed for the upstairs quickly finding the supplies he needed. He moved down the hall and heard voices coming from one of the rooms. He knocked lightly on the door and entered. Catherine and Grace were in the room; Grace was pulling Catherine's clothes out from an armoire that stood in the corner.

Grace looked up at Sam's entrance. "Young man you can march yourself back downstairs and wait for Catherine there. She'll be down in a minute." Grace moved to close the door on Sam when Catherine spoke up. "Wait, Sammy, stay." Catherine turned toward Grace, and said, "I would prefer Sam to help me, Grace, we'll meet you downstairs."

The older woman pursed her lips looking like she was going to argue, but instead seemed to surrender. "That's fine,Dear, I'll pack up some food for you to take on the road."

Catherine waited till the woman had left and smiled softly at Sam. "I know she wants to help but there's just something about her. I just can't think when she's around. I kept losing Dean; I promised him I wouldn't lose him."

Sam nodded, and asked, "How can I help?" He really hoped it didn't involve dressing Catherine, though by the looks of her wasn't able to help herself.

"Just turn around for a moment." Catherine shrugged her robe off, quickly put on underware and a cami and started pulling on her pants. As she leaned forward though, she got dizzy and lost her balance. Sam caught her just before she hit the ground. "Thanks Sam."

"Ok just put your arms around my neck. Real quick, ready one...two...three..." with a flick Sam had her pants pulled the rest of the way up and Catherine quickly fastened them. She shot Sam a grateful look, and said, "Just like your brother, you Winchesters, really know your way around woman's clothing."

"Well," Drawled a low voice, "He did learn from the best." Catherine turned her head as she put on Dean's worn blue shirt and smiled.

"Why yes, I guess he did," Catherine said, with a sparkle in her eye. Dean was over by her side in a moment brushing aside her clumsy fingers. He had the shirt buttoned in a moment and was pulling on her boots, when Catherine reached down and touched his face. As he looked up she smiled, and said, "Thank You, Dean."

Dean nodded and stood. "Well, we are ready and waiting on you. Princess. Let's fly." Dean waited as Sam measured out the medicine Catherine was to take, then Sam gave her a couple of Tylenol and some Cough Syrup for good measure. Neither boy said it out loud but they hoped that the combination of medication helped Catherine sleep, she looked to be working on pure will. Her poor body was definitely not in command.

Dean suddenly pushed her back on the bed, folded her in the quilt that was on it and pulled her into his arms. Catherine protested that she didn't need to be carried, but too Dean she felt so small and insignificant, he was scared to put her down. He suddenly looked down at her, and said, "Tell me the truth." It was a code word. Both Dean and Catherine were so stubborn that they spent their lives telling lies. 'I'm fine' was the mantra that they lived by. The words meant no bullshit, just the truth.

Catherine almost ignored Dean, but the way he looked at her meant that she couldn't. He rarely pestered her about how she went about living; when he did she tried her best to be honest. She nodded.

"How long have you been sick?" Dean asked, point blank almost afraid to hear the answer.

Catherine paused and thought back. "Since you fell in Lake Galena and I went in after you."

Dean closed his eyes, and let out a growl. "That was close to three weeks ago, why didn't you ask for help?"

Catherine continued to meet his gaze steadily. "Other things were more important," she said.

Dean knew she referred to the fourteen stitches he had ended up with from that fall. That and the pneumonia that had wiped him out for close to a week.

Dean leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. He needed help with Catherine, she was just so stubborn. Suddenly, he gave a small smile; he knew what he would do. He'd sick Sammy on her, Sammy was always looking to practice his nursing skills. Maybe between the two of them they could manage to keep her safe.

Dean tucked the blanket around her and headed towards the stairs. As he carried Catherine out the door he turned back once more to see George and Gracie waving to him. He nodded once and said thanks then he carried Catherine to the car.

Sam followed with their gear and a last look at the couple. He noted how happy they were just to be together. He thanked them once again and let himself out the door.

888

Dean went to place Catherine in the back seat when she protested, "No, Dean, don't put me in the back, its cold."

Dean looked down at Catherine and noticed the pallor of her face. The only color came from the flush of a fever. "Katie, you'll be more comfortable you have to sleep."

Sam walked up, and said, "Dean, you know she won't sleep, unless you put her up front." Sam had always pitied Catherine for her nightmares. After all he still suffered from time to time.

Dean muttered about stubbornness and slid Catherine onto the front seat. Sam carefully eased in next to her. He didn't mention it to Dean but he wanted Catherine in the front seat so he could monitor her fever. If she got any hotter he was going to have to figure a way to lower her fever.

Dean slid in the driver's side and waited until Catherine was comfortable. She tucked her feet up under herself toes resting against Dean's leg, and was leaning against Sam. Dean watched as she closed her eyes, he listened as the humming in his head became weaker and weaker. Finally, it stopped and became just a mute buzz in the back of his head. Dean nodded satisfied that she was asleep and left the parking lot.

888

So they drove through the state heading toward Bobby's, sometimes, the roads were so bad that Dean literally inched the black car forward and twice conditions became so good that Sam and him had removed the snow chains.

Catherine slept, the first five hours they had been on the road. Sam had noticed the heat radiating off of Catherine. Dean and Sam had actually lowered the heater she was so hot. Sam had woken her given her another dose of medicine and some more Tylenol and some water. Just as Sam was about to order Dean to pull over her fever broke. That was it, since then she had been sleeping a healing sleep, sprawled all over Sam with her legs lying on Dean's lap.

Dean found himself starting to nod off. When they had started out it had been 1 o'clock Christmas Eve morning. By the time he finally saw Bobby's long drive come into view it was 11 o'clock Christmas Day night. Dean was afraid that when Catherine found out they had missed Christmas she would be disappointed in him.

As they started down the drive Sam saw Dean become more nervous. Sam knew that Dean felt that he had let Catherine down. Sam wasn't worried though he knew Catherine and Bobby well enough to figure there was some type of loophole in their Christmas promise.

888

Catherine woke when the engine stopped. She looked up only to realize that she was lying on top of Sam with her feet resting on Dean's lap. As she started moving she realized that she actually felt better, better in fact than she had for days. She climbed off of Sam and apologized for drooling on his coat. Sam just grinned and said it wasn't the first time.

Catherine pulled her legs from Dean's lap and started to climb into the back seat trying to get her boots on. She was in a very undignified position when an arm grabbed her around the waist. She was pulled from the car and carried fireman style up the steps. Normally, she would complain, but really it felt nice letting Dean play he-man. The three of them stepped up to Bobby's front door and Sam knocked.

888

As Sam and Dean waited for the door to open, they both looked at each other and shared identical looks. They felt like intruders, like they didn't belong. Dean actually raised a brow at Sam questioning whether Sam was up for staying. Sam thought for a moment and nodded. He was feeling a bit out of place, but he thought he knew Catherine well enough that it wouldn't last.

"Jesus Christ, get your asses in here. Katie gir,l you are cutting it close tonight," Bobby said, grabbing Catherine in a hug as Dean set her down. Dean and Sam could do nothing but stare. Every inch of the bachelor's house screamed Christmas. There was a giant tree in the corner of the living room and pine garland hung on everything. There was a roaring fire and the air smelled like pine and apples.

Catherine actually blinked back tears as she looked into the older hunter's kind eyes. She squeezed him so hard she actually started to cough. She suddenly couldn't get her breath. Her lungs had been so filled with liquid that she had been unable to draw in enough air to clear them. She guessed the medicine was working though, because she couldn't stop coughing.

Dean quickly gathered her into his arms, one arm wrapped around her chest trying to give her some support as she coughed. Finally she stopped, and took a sip of water from the glass Sam had gotten her.

She smiled a little and laughed at the three identical male faces looking at her. "I'm fine, fine," she added with extra emphasis. She turned slowly, and said, "Bobby, the place looks fantastic." Catherine started for her bedroom gathering her duffle on her way. "I'm going to change into some jammies and start decorating the tree."

"Dean, what the hell man, is she okay?" Bobby asked, his eyes following her retreating back.

Dean answered guiltily "No, Bobby, I mean she's going to be okay, but she wasn't. She's been sick and she was hiding it from me. I just realized in the last day just how sick she was."

Bobby grunted, and said, "Don't go beating yourself up boy, that girl is the Jedi master of bullshit. If she didn't want you knowing it then you wouldn't know it." Bobby led them into the living room gesturing for the boys to relax. "This is the fun part. Just sit back and enjoy."

Dean sat in the chair Bobby indicated but was anything but relaxed. He noticed that Sam seemed perched to run also. It had been such a long time since he had what was considered a normal Christmas that it made him nervous.

888

Catherine rolled out of her bedroom looking like any other twenty-four year old. Her hair was in a knot at the back of her head, she wore a pair of Christmas pajama bottoms and a black tank top. She was moving fast and seemed to be practically jumping out of her skin.

Sam had a nervous moment when he actually thought that maybe the combination of medicine she was on was causing some kind of reaction.

"Okay, Sammy, can you unload the car while Dean showers. And then once he's done it'll be your turn. Bobby, did you get everything I asked for." Catherine suddenly stopped rattling off directions and stared at the three pairs of eyes staring at her. "What? I'm sorry, I'm bossing again huh, I don't mean to it's just I want to get the tree decorated before midnight." Just then the clock struck, chiming twelve times.

Catherine turned surprised at the noise behind her and let out a low laugh. She looked at Bobby, and said, "Saved by the bell. The clock in the bedroom said 11 o'clock."

Bobby laughed, and said, "Nope that ones an hour slow. Sorry, chicky, but we get to sleep tonight. Christmas Eve starts tomorrow," Bobby said, taking in her disgruntled look.

Catherine let out a big sigh and turned toward Dean. Arching an eyebrow she looked at Dean "So, uh, Dean, I'm gonna head to bed. Did you want to discuss, um, anything?"

Dean looked from Bobby to Catherine to Sam. Well at least Sam looked just as confused. "Uh, yeah sure Catherine just let me jump in the shower."

Catherine actually, snorted, and said, "A quick shower?" At Dean's nod, Catherine kissed each man on the cheek and headed towards her room.

Sam sat there feeling lost. "Um, Bobby. We just spent a day and a half driving straight thru to get here and now she's heading to bed. I'm lost. What's up?"

Bobby, let out a laugh and unplugged the lights on the Christmas tree. "We hunters have a hard time being on time. So we decided long ago that Christmas Eve starts the day we're together and Christmas day comes next. In this case Christmas Eve would have been canceled out. She wouldn't have been able to get everything done. So she's starting tomorrow instead."

"Oh, of course," Sam snorted. "I just spent umpteen hours in a car getting drooled on so that she could postpone Christmas.

Bobby stopped and turned toward the boys before he left the room. "In all seriousness boys, Thank you for getting her here. I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't made it. And for what it's worth it's gonna be a real pleasure sharing Christmas with you boys." With that Bobby turned and left the room.

Sam and Dean turned to face each other. Sam noticed that Dean seemed to be listening to something. "Dean what's up?" Dean looked at Sam and suddenly grinned "Merry Christmas, Sammy, you go ahead and shower first." Dean walked toward Catherine's room, humming what sounded like a Barry White song.

888

Dean leaned back on the couch and snapped open the top button of his jeans, it was 'Christmas Night' and the hunters were just lying around relaxing. Sammy lay on the floor by the fireplace pouring over a book that Bobby had gotten him for Christmas. In his ears were the small white buds of a not so new i-pod courtesy of Catherine. He was nodding his head in time with the beat.

Dean looked down at Catherine spread out across the couch her head on his knee. She had been a whirlwind of activity for the last two days, but had finally succumbed to the exhaustion that still lingered thanks to her illness. She wore a small black string bracelet around her left wrist, a gift from Sam and an exact replica of the one both Sam and Dean wore. Dean had been just as touched as Catherine when Sam had given one to her.

Dean's gift from Sam was on his lap. A year's subscription to Muscle Car Magazine, a favorite of Dean's, but one that was often hard to come by. The name on the cover wasn't Dean's but at least now every couple of weeks when he stopped by the PO Box he would get a new issue.

Dean's gift to Catherine was sitting on the kitchen table in a position of honor. It was a picture frame that he had made himself. It was a wooden box with hinges on one side and a latch on the other, when you opened it you found two pictures one on each side of the box. The box was made from cherry and shone in the firelight. It was slim and sturdy and would easily slip into Catherine's duffle.

The pictures had been harder to come by. Finally, Dean had to enlist Sam's help. Sam had taken one of the pictures about three months ago. They had been in Los Angeles on a job, and Catherine had convinced them to take one day off to spend at the beach. The picture was of Dean with Catherine in his arms. Neither one had even realized that Sam had taken the picture. They were laughing arms around each other a perfect moment of happiness for both.

The second picture was a copy of one that both Sam and Dean kept with them. It was of John and the two Winchester boys at about age 8 and 12. It was one of the few the boys had of John. Catherine had simply stared at the pictures, quietly wiping away the tears as they flowed down her cheeks. She had kissed Dean sweetly and hugged Sam.

She had then presented Dean with her gift, a look of shyness on her normally confident face. Dean's face had almost crumpled when he saw it. He had turned to her and kissed her fiercely; looking into her eyes he had told her he loved her. And he had meant it to the depths of his soul. He still couldn't believe it, a promise she had called it. Dean called it love and for the first time in his life he didn't want to run away from it.

Dean brushed a hand down Catherine's face and looked around the room. She had done this she had given him a home, a family. It wasn't just Sam and Dean anymore. They were a part of something larger and it was all because of her. He was finding more and more that he was looking towards a future, a future that held all of them together, strong and happy. For the first time in his life Dean felt like he had a future.

The End


End file.
